The Forgotten One
by Nefertity
Summary: A story about the dragon time forgot, an the love she's lost so long ago...and yet - has the love returned? READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!


*****The Forgotten One*****

**Disclaime**r: Night World concept owned by the wondrous Lisa Jane Smith, the Goddess of Good Writing!

All characters are mine…mine I tell you!!

**Rating**: Universal

**Summary**: A tale about a Dragon time forgot, and the loss of her soulmate she has never forgotten. And now…has love returned to claim her? **READ AND REVIEW!**

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**Authors Note:**I wrote this about two years ago, and I thought I should post it here**! **Please, please, please read and review. Tell me what you think, help a girl out here! If you like, let me know. If you dont, let me know too! Flames appreciated, but tell me in **at least 15 words why you have to flame this poor, poor writer who is writing only because the characters have take control of her brain!!**

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**Enjoy!**

*****The Forgotten One*****

Then she was called Nakata. Now she is called Dragon Silverthorne. The only one to survive the Witches Wrath, the only one to survive the eternal sleep they bestowed upon the dragons. 

But she survived and has stayed hidden for thousands of years, running from the rest of the Night World, always running and never stopping.

She does not know happiness, does not know laughter, but knows good and evil, for she's been both. She has seen unspeakable horror, and indeed, caused some. 

Now she is doing good, or is trying to. Though she still does not know laughter, does not know happiness, she *sees* it, around her. In the little town she has built and created, invisible to all but those that are running, like her. The town that is bespelled to be forever summer and forever beautiful. The town where no one asks questions, and no one demands answers. The town named after her.

 She sighs and looks out of the window, a wave of loneliness washing over her. It's familiar, as it should be; she has been feeling it ever since…since that day. 

Unwillingly, her mind goes back…back…back…to the first time.

~*~

She was alone. 

Alone in a world of friends and family, people who loved and surrounded her at all times. Happiness was a common word in her world, one used every day. Yet she was alone. 

Alone. The word sounded so final to her, one of the few words not used so often in her world. But she was alone. 

Standing there in that hall while around her moved, danced and talked the Heads of all the species; witches, vampires, shapeshifters and dragons alike, Nakata finally realised it. She sighed and smiled yet again graciously at another guest and moving on, surrendering herself to her thoughts once more. 

She stopped and briefly examined herself in one of the many, many mirrors around the hall, looking at her reflection.

She was pretty, she noted. Her hair tumbled down her back and contrasted with sharply with her pale skin, the black of her dress only adding to the contrast.

Yet all she could muster up was a vague feeling of interest.

Mother is right, she suddenly thought, moving on. I'm not *the* most enthusiastic person in the world. In fact Nakata didn't get more than superficially involved with anything at all, and her parents didn't like it, although her father was too nice to point it out, something her mother had *no* trouble with. But she didn't *have* anything to get excited about and had never had anything she could actively throw her energy into. I need something, she thought. Something that's…she couldn't put her finger on it exactly, but she knew it was somewhere out there. Somewhere out—-—

THERE. She spotted the figure across the ballroom, standing almost nonchalantly in a corner, talking to a witch, a soft smile around his lips and boredom only half hidden in his eyes.

He was beautiful. That was the only way she could describe him. His hair was shocking pure white, and cut short. A single blue lock danced among the white ones. His face was well defined, nicely crafted. Enthralled she watched as he said a soft goodbye to the girl and turned his back, walking away.

And even the way he walked was exquisite, his gait almost a reflex, power behind every muscle. He was wearing black, and it contrasted so sharply with his features that it only added to its magnificence. He stopped his stride across the room and stiffened, sensing being watched. Slowly he turned and fixed eyes of the same colour blue as the streak in his hair, on her. 

He smiled and changed his direction, walking straight toward her. And when he was just feet away he stopped and studied her, looking at her for long moments until she blushed and looked away. He chuckled at her embarrassment and she looked back at him, surprised at his laughter. "What do you find so funny, if I may ask?"

"And she speaks," he said and even his voice was lovely, almost a song to her ears, the notes rolling of his tongue like the notes of a love song played on a harp.

A song started and he extended his arms graciously. "Shall we dance?" And after a moment's hesitation, she stepped into that ring of warmth and moved around the room in time to the music. He was an excellent dancer and it suddenly occurred to Nakata that she was dancing with a complete stranger. "May I have the pleasure of knowing with whom I dance?"

"Well, you may know, but I'm not sure if it will be a pleasure," he murmured in her ear while he spun her round, and his warm breath was a pleasant shock, but she composed herself quickly. "My name is Dashanti."

"I am Nakata," she told him leaning back slightly in the embrace to see his face better. 

"I know who you are, Dragon Princess," he said, a little twinkle in his eyes as he pulled her close again. Maybe a little too close, but suddenly she didn't care what the others around her would think and she leaned into his embrace, laying her head against his shoulder.

He chuckled and spun her around once more, and Nakata was so comfortable in the movement that she didn't realise they were almost outside on the balcony until the music faded out and the cool night-air brushed her skin.

Yet strangely, she didn't feel endangered or in trouble as they danced to their own music and eventually stopped. She lifted her head, looking at him with a soft smile on her lips. He was staring back, just as enthralled.

"What?" she laughed finally when he still didn't speak. He didn't say anything yet, but softly touched her hair. "You have nice hair," he murmured and she laughed a little, accustomed to those kinds of remarks. Her hair was long, reaching nearly her hips, and black in colour with silver streaks, and an almost unreal sheen added to it often made people wonder.

But with him it was more than wonder, almost admiration.  The wind ruffled his hair, and the moon's light glinted in his eyes as he bend his head down to hers, his lips meeting hers in a shimmering haze of diamond.

And from that moment on she was lost, lost in his mind, born away on a whirling cloud of silver and surrounded by a soft voice that promised to protect her at all cost, although she would only find out the meaning of that so much later.

But for that moment she was lost, and she wished to stay that way forever. Wrapped in his dark mind, tightened around her in a soft hold, his memories sweeping through her. 

He leaned back and stared into her eyes with a passion never seen. "I…"

She placed a kiss on his lips, cutting him off. ~I know~ 

She wanted to stay forever, wrapped in that conflicting mind, though she could not, and she finally remembered her guests after some time, and she stepped out of his embrace. "I have to go."

He nodded and softly traced one of the silver locks in her hair, before melting away in the night. 

She sighed and went back in, and the night passed in a daze, her mind never completely there, but always involved in a silent conversation with someone else.

She got to her bedroom and walked in, stopping dead at the sight of the little box on her desk. "What?" she whispered as she came closer. The box was beautiful, engraved and decorated with flowers of every kind, and she opened it, gasping as she saw the contents.

On a bed of blue silk, lay the most wondrous flower she'd ever seen. Beautifully white, with the just the faintest hint of blue in it's depths and at the edge of each perfect petal. 

She sighed and picked it up, immediately aware from whom it was. She sent him a silent thank you, and set the flower aside, leaving for bed.

From that day on, Nakata was no more alone. Always surrounded by Dashanti's love, always wrapped in his mind, whether close by or far away. It didn't matter.

And they had so much in common. It was almost scary. And even if they didn't have anything in common, it would not have mattered.

They had their love…

~…and that, is all we need~ he murmured in her mind, as they stood wrapped in each other's arms, staring out over the sea. They were standing on their special hill, the one with the fifty feet drop and the best view of the rolling waves. She turned to him, worry in her eyes.

"Dashanti, you must have heard," she said, her voice soft lest she break the spell they seemed to be in. "The witches—"

He cut her off by placing a finger on her lips, and shaking his head. "Rumours, mon cherie. Just rumours. They would never dare cross us, we *are* stronger."

He smiled at her, and as always she was reassured.

Maybe she shouldn't have been – but she was and stayed. Even when her father called her in a few times over the next few weeks, she stayed assured that nothing could happen.

They were safe.

Dashanti had told her so.

But the image shattered when one night he climbed through her window, deadly pale and woke her with a soft shake. She smiled, but it disappeared immediately when she got a good look at his face.

~What?~ she asked silently, but he didn't reply, and instead pushed her towards the window, motioning for her to climb through. 

She did, silently – only because she trusted him. But she was burning up with curiosity that slowly turned to concern as he led her away from the palace at a great speed. She stopped when she realised where he was taking her. "Dashanti, *what* is going on?"

He turned, and she felt her heart skip a beat when she saw his face.

Cold. Frozen rage and something else.

Fear. And that scared her, for she'd never seen Dashanti scared, and had never wanted to. 

He was her pillar, the one that kept *her* sane and secure. And also because the cold fear was seeping into her. It had to be something *bad* that made Dashanti feel like that.

He stepped closer to him and placed both hands on his face. "Tell me."

He closed his eyes briefly, savouring her touch. He sighed once, then twice as he finally got out the reply. "The witches…they've…come."

Nakata closed her eyes. "Oh Goddess above," she whispered as dread struck her heart and made its home there. Then a thought struck her.

"My family!" A suppressed scream and she made a movement as if to go back. Dashanti grabbed and held her. "No, they're already in the castle…we have to go."

He grabbed her arm tighter and pulled her along, and she followed, stumbling while she tied to deal with the raging emotions in her heart. She'd known the witches were coming, but like any other dragon had been assured they would not get them.

And how wrong I was, and my family will suffer because of me.

Her father, her little brother, her mother.

At the thought of Niko, and his only ten years she choked back a desperate cry and nearly fell. Dashanti stopped his mad race, and held her close briefly. "Not long now, come on."

And it continued. She didn't know where they were going, and she didn't have time to think as images of her family kept flitting up. She blamed herself.

Itsmyfaultitsmyfaultitsmyfault.

She was so absorbed she didn't even notice that Dashanti had stopped until she bumped into him.

~What's wrong~ she asked silently, not trusting to open her mouth lest she start to scream and never stop.

~We're here~ the answer came short and brusque and suddenly she was worried—but for him. She stepped around him, and saw he'd led her to their special place. "What are we doing here Dashanti?"

"It's a way to say—," he broke off and shook his head. "Listen we dont have much time—"

"Much time?" she interrupted him. "Time for what?"

He didn't answer, but instead looked deep into her eyes, and the sorrow and love she saw in his blue once were like a knife to her heart. "Dashanti—" she started, but he cut her off by placing a soft kiss on her lips and wrapping his arms around her.

And the way he held her, so tightly, so softly. It was almost a breeze, and she fitted there so perfectly. He was once more silent, and she heard his voice in her mind, urgently telling her something…

I…

…know we're going to be apart, know we're not going to see each other for the longest time and maybe not forever but I want you to promise that you…

Will…

…move on with your life. I can't let you suffer the same fate as me, and they're coming for us, Nakata, they're coming. I can hear them now, hear them…

Always…

…and we can try to run, but what kind of life would that be, Nakata? What kind? When we always have to be afraid and look over our shoulders, and have no time for our…

Love…

…but have to spend the entire time dreaming of what we could do, what kind of life we could life? We Dragons were foolish, Nakata, so foolish, and this is the price we pay for our greed. Just remember that I will come back for…

You…

…dont you worry, I will be back~

He let her go and suddenly she wasn't in his mind anymore, but back on that hill, and vaguely over the crest she could see the group of witches assigned to them. She turned back to Dashanti and saw him looking at her with such sorrow in her eyes, and even before he reached for he she knew what he was going to do. 

He gripped her shoulders and brought his lips to hers in one last forceful kiss and then looked deep into her eyes, and she felt like drowning in those blue pools of sorrow. "I'm sorry."

He pushed her backward and she felt herself going over the edge, felt herself falling and shifting was almost a reflex for her and seconds later, a white sea gull was flying back up. Dashanti threw her one last glance, and she heard his voice briefly in her mind. "Goodbye."

And as the witches came over the crest, he faced them proudly while suddenly they surrounded him in a tight ring. Their chants could be heard up in the air and they reached Nakata's ear in a haze of confusion and she finally understood when he slumped forward and fell. 

"NO!" she screamed when the snap of the soulmate link slapped into her mind – but in that form it only came out as a sea-gulls cry, and it was ignored by the witches who picked him up and bore him off.

No, she whimpered brokenly and fell down, down into the sea, the current catching her and carrying her off. But in the midst of her anger and sorrow, she still heard his voice, telling her he'd be back for her. And what good would she be if she was dead?

So she dragged herself out of the water and up unto the grassy bank, and lay there, broken. 

She was…

~*~

Dragon Silverthorne shook herself, dragging herself out of the pits of her memory. It was painful, and she didn't want to get dragged back in. She looked up at the sky, the sun was late and she realised that she'd spend at least a few hours submerged in the past.

But what good were the sharp knifes of memory, when tinged with the bittersweet taste of lost love? She still felt the horrible hole in her, the one that was left by his presence when that soulmate link had snapped.

Each day she wished, and each day she knew it was futile.

And Dragon Silverthorne cried in her heart.

Sighing she stood, stretched, went back inside and into the kitchen, standing stock-still in shock.

There, on the table lay a wooden box, and when she stepped cautiously closer, she saw it was decorated beautifully, engraved with flowers of every kind. 

An almost dizzying sense of deja vu swept through her, and she had to steady herself against the door, before stepping closer.

With her heart thudding painfully somewhere in her throat, she reached for the handle and opened it. Her heart stood nearly still as she saw the contents.

There, on a bed of blue silk, lay the most beautiful flower she'd ever seen, with the most extraordinary colouring she'd ever see.

Pure white, with just the faintest touches of blue in their depth and at the edges of each petal…

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Like it? Want me to write the sequel? Please tell me what you thought and if you'd like the sequel. **REVIEW PLEASE!**

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